


Where the Sky Hangs

by mailbox_mel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mailbox_mel/pseuds/mailbox_mel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is a D1 athlete and on the premed track. Her life is the definition of busy, from long runs to chemistry and physics. But she's starting to think that maybe she needs a break from everything, especially from people who think they know her just because she's involved in so much. </p>
<p>Bellamy is almost done with college and is looking forward to finally moving away from the city. His last year has been pretty quiet, especially once his sister started college and moved out. Little did he know that some excitement in his life might be just what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The View From the Afternoon

“Fuck,” Clarke shouts as a car zooms past, a little too close for comfort. Didn’t these people learn how to share the road in driver’s ed? Apparently, this was a foreign concept to all the people who had driven by today; each car seems to get closer and closer to her. Clarke loves running, especially in the country, because it’s so liberating in comparison to running on a treadmill. The smells, the wind, the sun, all of it is exactly what she needs when she runs.  


Except for assholes in cars who don’t know how to drive.  


Clarke is a D1 athlete and on the premed track. Her life is the definition of busy. From long runs to chemistry and physics, she doesn’t have time for much fun. Except for the occasional party Raven, her best friend, coerces her into attending. To everyone, it looks like Clarke has her whole college career planned out. Well, mostly. Besides the whole thing about wanting to major in art, it’s all figured out. She and her mom don’t see eye to eye about the whole college thing, with her mom wanting her to major in biology to help prepare her for medical school (which, in the long run, her major doesn’t really matter, but her mom never listens to that argument). Her mom is one of the best neurosurgeons in the country and just wants Clarke to follow in her footsteps, which means going to the same school and having the same major.  


But Clarke has time to think things through, especially if the 13 mile run takes any goddamn longer! Most of the time she drives herself crazy because she’s stuck inside her head. Being the fastest girl on the team has a few downsides, she doesn’t have the chance to talk with her teammates. But she also enjoys the time she has to think. The time-  


A red minivan races past Clarke, not bothering to move over, and barely gives her enough time to jump out of the way to avoid being smashed like a pancake. She tumbles down the deep ditch, smashing through the tall weeds and bushes and splashes into the giant puddle that formed at the bottom of the ditch. “Fucking hell, of course it had to rain yesterday,” Clarke mumbles while she just lays there at the bottom of the ditch letting the cold, murky water soak her clothes. She doesn’t move for a while, contemplating whether or not she should actually get up after that embarrassing descent into the pits of grossness (even though no one probably saw it). Eventually, after her adrenaline burns off, she begins to notice the dull ache all over her body and all the cuts covering her arms and legs that are probably getting infected from the nasty water. As she carefully stands up, she notices her left ankle is starting to get crazy swollen. There’s no way she’s running 6 miles back with a sprained ankle. Emitting a groan, she looks up to the sky muttering, “Couldn’t this have happened within the city limits?”  


Pushing her way through the weeds, Clarke carefully hops up the ditch, trying to avoid putting weight onto her hurt ankle that’s really starting to throb. As she nears the top, she startles as a hand reaches out and grabs her arm to haul her back up to the road. The hand easily hoists her up, putting a little too much oomph behind it and making her stumble into the person who helped her.  


“Sorry to surprise you! I saw you go down and then didn’t come back up so I came to find you!” Clarke looks up to see who’s speaking and is startled to see a very, very handsome face shrouded with an anxious look. “Do you need a ride back to the city? I can give you one. I swear I’m not some creepy guy, I just saw you go down-you can call someone else and I’ll wait with you.”  


Clarke interrupts the stranger before he can keep babbling more. “No, no, you can take me back if you don’t mind. But I’ll need help, I sprained my ankle and I doubt I can do much walking.”  


“Oh, that’s no matter to me. Here let me help you.” He ducks his head under the arm he recently used to pull her out of the ditch, and wraps his arm (a very, very nice arm) around her. He supports her weight as she slowly hops to the car. Well, the car she’s assuming is this handsome stranger’s since there is no other car around. He’s driving a truck, one that looks like it hasn’t seen a car wash in months. Clarke is sure the colour of the car has been darkened many shades from all the dust and mud that’s coated on it. When they reach the truck that was parked a few feet away, the man opens the door and basically lifts her up into the seat, since it’s so high from the ground. He jogs over to the other side, gets in, and starts the truck.  


“By the way, my name is Bellamy,” he says before pulling back onto the road.  


“And I’m Clarke.” 


	2. Start Wearing Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written in Bellamy's point of view, him and Clarke ride back to the city.

I take off down the road, heading in the direction of the city before attempting to talk to Clarke. She’s staring out the passenger window, dirt streaking her blonde hair, with twigs and some leaves sticking out of it. The last remnants of a braid are trailing down her back over a light blue tank top, which is also basically covered with mud. Okay this silence is getting pretty awkward now. Maybe we need some music, or I could try talking with her. But she seems pretty intent on staring out that window; she hasn’t even looked at me since I started driving. But if I don’t say anything maybe I’ll come off as super creepy. Okay. I need to say something. Literally anything would be better than this silence. 

“So, how was your mud bath?” Wow, real smooth Bellamy. Out of everything you could’ve said that’s what you come up with? 10/10 would not recommend talking again. I glance back at Clarke to see her reaction and hope my face isn’t flushing too badly. She looks at me quickly before giving a breathy laugh and looking back out the window. Okay, calm down on the weirdness level. Talk about something normal. 

“Do you want to listen to some music? My phone is plugged in so we could listen to my music if you don’t mind,” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral. She has a really serious demeanor that’s making me nervous. Usually people take to me pretty quickly, I’m definitely a flirt when it comes to pretty people. But she seems impervious to my good looks and my charm is definitely failing. 

Clarke looks at me while I keep my eyes on the road. “Well, that depends,” she says, raising her eyebrows at me. “If it’s hardcore country or scream punk, which I could see you being either, then I think the silence would be better.” 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out! How about you pick something you want to listen to?” She just holds out her hand with a slight smirk as she waits for me to pull my truck up to a stop sign and unlock my phone. Handing it over to Clarke, I anxiously wait for her reaction. I know most don’t like the music I listen to, it’s usually underground, indie stuff with a dash of more popular music. I sneak a few more glances before pulling away from the stop sign with still no word from her. Finally, she looks up and I can’t quite read her expressions, but it looks faintly like curiosity. 

Clarke taps the song and I wait for it to start to hear what she chose. “Start Wearing Purple” starts playing and now I’m the one with a curious expression. Did she pick this because it has purple in the title or because she might actually know it? I know that song is pretty far down the list so she probably didn’t just accidentally stumble upon it. Most girls I’ve met aren’t really into this type of music, and the ones I’ve met that are usually aren’t my type. 

Then again, most girls don’t have to be rescued from a ditch. 

“Do you know Gogol Bordello? I absolutely love his music!” With a gypsy-punk feel, this guy was seriously awesome. “Okay, sorry Clarke, I know we’re pretty much strangers, but I have to rock out. You brought this upon yourself!” 

As my weird car dancing and antics start, Clarke lets out a giant laugh (and one of the most beautiful laughs I’ve heard in a long time). As we near the city, I roll down the windows, turn the song up and rock out even harder, if that’s possible. I shimmy, throw my hair around, sing off key, all to get Clarke to laugh again. 

“Come on! You have to join me, Clarke!” 

“What if I don’t know the song!?” She’s still laughing, just staring at how ridiculous I probably look. 

“Who cares! You gotta join me!” I amp up my dramatics and grab her arm to get her attention (even though it’s already on me) to sing to her in the most ridiculous Italian accent I can think of. 

“I know you since you were a twenty, I was twenty,” She raises her eyebrows in surprise with a giant smile on her face. 

“And thought that several years from now,” God, she has a stunning smile. 

“A purple little little lady will be perfect,” I jokingly move my eyes up and down her body and wink when I meet her eyes again. 

“For a dirty, old and useless clown.” I emphasize each word with a slight bob of my head and get closer to her face on each bob. 

Her laughter makes her whole body shake. So much for that serious demeanor! I keep singing with this horrible accent with a giant smile on my face, hoping that Clarke will join me. Her laughter finally starts to subside a little when she begins bobbing her head and mouthing the words. 

“I can’t hear you!” I say, cupping my hand to my ear. Clarke shoots me a glare and intently looks into my eyes with her piercing blue ones. As the song builds up to the chorus again, she takes a giant breath and starts “singing” (she’s actually just yelling) at people on the sidewalk. Looking back at me, she has that giant smile back on her face, her nose scrunching up in the most adorable way. 

We continue in our ridiculous manner until the song ends, breaking into joint laughter from all the stares we received. I turn the music down as the next song comes on, still laughing. 

Clarke looks at me, her eyes bright from all the laughing. “Bellamy, you are definitely the most embarrassing person I have ever met. Seriously, I’m only laughing because that was one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen!” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just the awful singing I heard coming from you?” I shoot back, with what I hopes comes off as a flirty smile. 

“Keep your eyes on the road, jerk,” she says with a laugh. 

“You know it’s true!” She shoots me another glare, it seems to be her specialty. “Okay, okay princess,” the name just rolls off my lips before I can think about it, but it fits so well with the way the sun is glinting off her golden parts hair. “Where do you want to be dropped off?” 

“Did you just call me princess?” She says, with indignation. 

“Only the best for strangers I rescue from ditches.” 

“Oh, so you do that on the daily?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“How about you just tell me where you want to go, princess.” 

Scoffing at the name, she says, “Yeah right. I bet you do this with all damsels in distress!” 

“Well, you’re the only damsel in distress I’ve had the pleasure of rescuing from a ditch,” I say, giving her a wink. “Besides, it’s the duty of the knight to make sure the princess gets home safely.” 

“So smooth,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Take a left here. I live in some of the apartments near the west side of campus.” She continues to direct me to her apartment, which ends up only being a few blocks away from where I live with my sister. I pull up to a spot close to the door and turn the truck off before hopping out and jogging to the passenger side. Clarke already has the door open before I get there and she’s trying to slide out of the seat without hurting her injured ankle. She winces as her feet hit the concrete. 

“Hey, do you need some help getting into your apartment? I doubt you’ll get far on that ankle.” Hesitantly, I reach out my hand, hoping that she’ll accept my offer. 

She gives me another smile and puts her hand in mine. “Yeah, that would be awesome. I live on the second floor, but the elevator is just through the door.” 

“Good,” I smirk, “because if I had to carry you up some stairs I would’ve just driven away.” 

“Wow, so much for my knight in shining armor!” Clarke says laughingly. I laugh back at her before slipping my arm around her back again to help her into the building. She sends me a grateful smile, her eyes lighting up as I smile back. Her eyes really stand out from her sun bleached hair and her lightly tanned skin, the blue so penetrating as if she could read my every thought. She’s so beautiful in every way possible, even though she’s covered in mud, which happens to make her more beautiful somehow. Just looking at her does strange things to my heart, things I haven’t felt for a long time. 

Okay, slow down. I don’t really even know Clarke yet. But she does seem great. And beautiful. And wow, those eyes again. They’re just so blue, how is it even possible. 

“Hello, Bellamy. Earth to Bellamy!” Clarke is waving her free hand in front of my face. 

I blink a few times before sheepishly saying, “Oh, shit. Sorry, I totally spaced out.” 

She gives me a small smile. “Yeah, I noticed. Would you maybe want to help me clean up some of my cuts? In my apartment?” 

I notice that we reached her door (well, what I’m assuming is her door) when I was zoning out. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to leave the princess without some help,” I say jokingly. 

She just rolls her eyes in response with a small grin on her face. Pulling out a key from her shorts, she unlocks the door. Turning to me, she says, “Welcome to mi casa, Bellamy.”


	3. Haunting Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a continuation of where the previous chapter left off! Written from Clarke's point of view, her and Bellamy's relationship is slowly progressing from complete strangers to at least acquaintances.

Bellamy leads me into my apartment, still supporting most of my weight because of my ankle. “Would you mind leading me to the bathroom? I should try to clean up before everything gets infected,” I smile up at Bellamy. 

“Sure thing, Princess. Whatever you need,” he responds, giving me a wink.

I shake my head at the nickname. How did this guy already give me a nickname? We’ve barely been together for 30 minutes! Rolling my eyes, I stop once we reach the bathroom doorway. 

Turning around to face him, I say, “Could you grab an ice pack for my ankle from the freezer? I’ll start cleaning up the bigger cuts in here.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” Bellamy gives a quick smile and turns, heading back towards my kitchen. I follow his receding figure with my eyes, admiring his broad shoulders that are outlined from the sunlight coming in from the living room windows. Biting my lip, I sit on the toilet seat and start digging through my bandage drawer to find some antibiotic ointment and bandages. 

My mind keeps drifting to Bellamy as I begin cleaning up. His lean, but muscular build. His mess of deep brown curls and his even deeper brown eyes. His adorable awkwardness in the car and his “wonderful” singing performance. And those freckles. Damn. I could spend all day drawing them and never get tired.

I startle as Bellamy reappears in the doorway. “Here’s the icepack you requested,” he says.

“Awesome, thanks! I actually just finished up cleaning so could you help me to the living room?”

Bellamy reaches with his free hand to help pull me up from the toilet. “You sure do have lots of requests to ask of a stranger.”

“After that beautiful singing performance in your truck I highly doubt we still qualify as strangers!” 

Feeling his laugh reverberate through his body, he asks, “So what do we qualify as then, Princess?”

“Hmm, I guess we’d qualify as acquaintances,” I say, looking up into his smiling face.

“I’m sorry, Clarke, but I think we’re moving too fast,” Bellamy says with a somber look on his face

“So the stranger does actually know my name! What a surprise,” I let out with a laugh, giving him a small punch into his side (oh my god, those abs) with my free hand. 

Bellamy bats my hand away and untangles his arm from around my waist. I slowly ease down onto the couch trying to avoid putting too much pressure on my ankle. When I look back up, Bellamy is staring right into my face. My eyes meet his, whose color reminds me of dark chocolate. Our gazes stay locked together for only a few moments before he breaks away, turning his face into his shoulder and running his hand through his mess of curls. 

“So, anyway,” he says, drawing out the words, “do you need me to do anything else for you? Or do you think you’ll survive?”

With a shy smile, I respond, “I think I’ll manage. But thanks for all you help. You’re a real lifesaver.”

“Of course, anything for you Princess.” And with a big smile and an awkward looking wave, Bellamy heads towards my apartment door. He suddenly turns back towards me, “Hopefully see you around sometime?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Good,” he says looking relieved. “See you around then, Clarke.”

I hold my breath until I hear him close the door. Heaving out a giant sigh, I relax my head onto the back of the couch. Raven will not believe it when she hears that some hot guy was in my apartment (and that I let him go without banging). She knows I don’t have time for boys, but she is CONVINCED I need to “let go” and “live a little” and “be a normal college student.” 

Normal my ass. My life is anything but normal with science and art and everything else I’m involved in. The last thing I need is some boy.   
Especially a boy who call me Princess.

Raven can get her panties in a twist all she wants, but there’s no way I’m adding a guy to my life. Even if he is cute. And hot. And nice. I mean, he did rescue me from a ditch. 

But still. No way. Nada. Zip. Nope. I’m parked in a no guy zone and no matter how much complaining Raven does, I’m not changing my mind.

Ignoring my thoughts, I try to shift my focus to continuing an episode of “The 100,” this post-apocalyptic show about teenage delinquents trying to survive a radioactive Earth. All of my friends know I’m basically trash when it comes to dystopian TV shows, I get hooked no matter what! Picking up my phone, I hop on tumblr to send a few messages to some mutuals and scroll through my dash to see if anything interesting pops up. 

But of course my mind has to wander to Bellamy and those damn freckles that dot his cheekbones. I could spend all day tracing the constellations that map his face. Reaching for one of my sketchbooks that are scattered throughout my living room, I attempt to draw his face from memory. I hope that I can see him again…just to finish this drawing, of course. Nothing else. But just thinking about him keeps giving me butterflies in my stomach. 

I haven’t felt like this since senior year of high school, which was three years ago. But that relationship was headed to hell in a handbasket before it even started. Finn was nice and the perfect boyfriend. Until I found out he was dating two people from different high schools. Since then I’ve kept my guard up against anyone who’s shown interest. But I’m not sure if Bellamy is just super flirty or…what. But with a face like his, I don’t mind if he checks me out a little bit. 

Okay, I give up. There’s no way I can concentrate with him invading my every thought. Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a yawn and reach for my phone. I text Raven to see if she’s busy and try to go back to my show without Bellamy intruding my thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story I've ever written so I hope you guys enjoy! Any feedback would be very helpful :)


End file.
